


The 8th Wonder

by Albion19



Category: American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-04 10:10:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16344806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Albion19/pseuds/Albion19
Summary: Michael, now the Supreme, is rattled when he is challenged to another test.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For an anon who wanted Mallory to challenge Michael.

“There can only be one Supreme.”

“Yes, Michael Langdon,” Baldwin says proudly, raising a glass.

Michael watches carefully as the witches take a seat at the dinner table. The witches had invited him and the warlocks to their school, a celebration dinner, or so they say. Convenient, as it saves him the trouble of picking them off one by one.

Cordelia sits across the table from him, smiling as she fills her glass with wine. Michael only has eyes for her, not liking the smirk on her lips. “Usually it’s custom for a number of promising witches to partake in the Seven Wonders together.”

“A challenge, to add a little spice,” the old red haired witch adds. Michael had a figurine with hair just like hers. He stuck the little troll on the end of a pencil.

“But Michael has already won,” Ariel says, smiling dangerously over his glass. “No one is a match for him, not even you.”

Cordelia smiles, looking down. “It’s true, he is…unique. He passed every test…but one.”

“What?” Michael stiffens, eyes drilling into Cordelia’s.

Ariel throws down his napkin. “He performed all seven! He is the Supreme, there’s no question!” His eyes narrow. “You’re fading, I can sense it. You just can’t face the truth that a man is now in charge.”

Myrtle sweeps her glass out of the way as the small man gets to his feet. “Never should have invited these beasts, the inhospitality is appalling…”

“Myrtle,” Cordelia holds up a hand and stares at Michael, ignoring Ariel who seems ready to burst. Michael remains outwardly calm, the only sign of his unease a sudden increase in the heat of the room.

“What are you talking about?”

“There’s another, a witch, who not only passed all seven wonders but says she can accomplish another that no one has ever dared.”

At these words Michael’s eyes flick to each witch seated around him. He had ignored them, their power insignificant. To his right is the troll haired Myrtle and to his left a young woman. She had not spoken a word and he thought her unremarkable.

“She performed Descensum?” Behold asks. He sits next to Madison, both avoiding Michael’s gaze.

“Admirably,” Zoe says. “But she says she can go one further.”

Michael still gazes at the mousy haired woman next to him. She gives nothing away, the power around her as trifling as the others but he still cannot take his eyes away. Finally she meets his gaze. A soft voice speaks into his mind.

_I know what you’re planning. It won’t work._

_…Who are you?_

She just smiles and pops a grape into her mouth. Her voice in his head is imbued with a lightness that makes him feel strange, powerless. He hates it.

“This is Mallory,” Cordelia says, looking between them. “She passed each test and could take the title but feels it would be…unfair to you.”

“This is ridiculous. How do we know she even passed?” Ariel asks, quivering with rage.

“Because she brought me back,” a man says and John Henry Moore walks in. Michael freezes and Ariel slowly sits back in his seat. “Some old bat cut my throat and set me on fire at a gas station. Never show kindness to strangers, it always comes back to bite you,” he says, leaning against the wall behind Cordelia. His blue eyes pin Michael’s but he only gives him a glance before staring at Mallory again.

“You want to challenge me to another test…out of fairness?” He almost laughs.

“Yes.” Her voice is as husky as the one in his head. It makes him shudder. She gets to her feet and he follows, as if she has strings around him.

“What?”

“We can both descend to hell…but can you ascend?” she looks up at the ceiling and Michael follows her gaze upwards. At her question the room breaks into pandemonium, witches and warlocks arguing, jumping to their feet. John sighs and takes a seat beside Cordelia, clinking her glass as Michael and Mallory gaze at each other unblinking.

“Well, this will be fun.”


	2. Chapter 2

“The attempt will destroy the demon boy,” Myrtle says as they watch Mallory and Michael walking into the garden. Ariel and Baldwin walk either side of Michael, trying to disused him but he pays them no heed. Michael had spent the night considering Mallory’s challenge and accepted.

“Here’s hoping, only the most high can defeat _that_ abomination,” Behold answers. John says nothing, just watches from the veranda. Only a handful knows the true nature of the boy and not even the combined powers of their two factions can defeat him. It seems folly to place that challenge on the shoulders of a girl but Cordelia had assured him that Mallory was no mere girl.  Like Michael she was…singular.

Mallory glances at Michael from the gazebo before Cordelia takes her shoulders in her hands.

“You don’t have to do this. You are the Supreme, not Michael.”

“I can do this. If what you say is true then I only have to show him the way. Ascending could harm him. Or at least a part of him,” she adds and Cordelia is about to ask her to clarify when Michael appears. He smiles politely, hands behind his back. Ariel and Baldwin have joined the others on the veranda.

Cordelia cocks her head. “I take it they haven’t convinced you to step down?”

“No. This whole thing is bullshit but I’ll comply with her wishes,” he stares at Mallory curiously, joining her in the gazebo as Cordelia steps away. She looks reassuringly at Mallory.

“I have every faith in you. If at any time you don’t want to do this stop and come back to us.”

“Thank you,” Mallory whispers, watching her join the others. Her heart races as she looks up at Michael. He is beautiful, his demeanour calm and not the least troubled by her challenge.

His tilts his head, taking her in. “I know you want to destroy me, I’m not a fool.”

“I don’t want to destroy anyone. I don’t know you,” she says with a small smile. Michael can tell when someone lies and he senses nothing but honesty in her. Michael shakes his head.

“Even if you don’t they’re hoping I won’t survive.”

“You survived visiting Hell, why will this be any different?”

Michael’s lip curls as he begins to circle her slowly. “The halls of Dis weren’t much of a challenge for me.”

“Kinda like a home away from home?” she asks and he narrows his eyes. They had told her who he was, his true nature. Mallory was not religious, she did not know the face of god but she had visited a place of light and goodness for as long as she can remember. She had escaped the opposite but saw no figure of evil down there, just lost souls in prisons of their own making. Was this young man really the Antichrist?

“Whatever they told you,” he looks at Madison and Behold for a moment. “They’re wrong. I’ve done things I’m ashamed of but I’m different now. I’m a warlock, that’s all.”

“It’s not for me to prove anything. You’re either welcome into the light or you’re not,” Mallory steps closer to him, eyes on his. He is stunning, a contrast to the darkness she can sense within him.

“And if I’m not welcome?”

“You could go poof or nothing may happen,” she muses. “What I do know is that to ascend is to find yourself in a world of peace, a place where you feel purified. Everything you ever wanted is there,” she finishes, her gaze far away.

Michael’s jaw clenches at this. “Purified?”

Mallory shrugs. “Just how I felt after I got back. That’s the tricky part, getting back.”

“They won’t let you leave?” He isn’t sure who _they_ are but even the thought of these unseen agents make him feel a sense of dread.

Mallory smiles and moves to him. “Don’t be scared. That place is so wonderful that you’ll find it hard to leave. No one tries to stop you…but if you don’t go back you’ll die here.”

Uncomfortable with her attempt to comfort him he moves away. “So you think angels are gonna give me a welcome party?”

“Who knows? I’m an atheist.”

Michael laughs, shaking his head. “Even though you’ve been to heaven?”

“I don’t know what it is. I just know it was the opposite of everything down there,” she points at the ground. “Why do you want to do this? You could just leave and claim the title.”

“It’s true, I could. Cordelia is fading and the witches think that is down to you, the warlocks think it’s because of me. Truthfully I don’t care what either faction believe. In fact I think this separation between us is stupid.”

“You want to rule the witches _and_ the warlocks?” she smirks. “I think Myrtle might take up arms. She told me she has fitted armour in her boudoir. McQueen,” she adds, amusing herself with the image of Myrtle riding into battle like Boudica.

Michael moves closer to Mallory. He had thought her power insignificant but he had been sniffing for the wrong scent. Her power is different, something so deep it is almost undetectable. He would like to peel her apart and dig inside to find out what it is.

Mallory moves back from his odd, hungry gaze but Michael moves with her. “You can call yourself Supreme, rule in this place and I could be their Alpha…but I’m meant for something more.”

“You just said you were a simple warlock.”

“Like you’re a simple witch?”

“Never said I was.”

“Then what are you Mallory?”

“I don’t know, I came here to find out,” she admits softly as he backs her up against a pillar. Roses climb around it and get tangled in her hair. She feels hypnotised by his stare but a big part of her is detached. His every breath is seductive but Mallory had never been one to succumb. He makes it hard.

“We could make a deal,” Michael murmurs, eyes roving over her features as she slips aside. Tendrils of her hair get caught and she stops with a wince. Michael tilts his head and then gently starts to free her from the roses. Mallory inhales as he comes close, his hip brushing her side.

“What deal?”

“That I took your challenge and we both succeeded. We both win. We both get what we want.”

Mallory lifts her hands and touches his fingers as he pulls. His beautiful face disappears and something else looks back at her, something monstrous. She gasps and shakes her hair free. When she looks back he is in the centre of the gazebo, hands behind his back with a calm smile on his beautiful face.

“You look scared,” he says in mock confusion and looks behind him. Mallory straightens and brushes her hair back, gaining some control. Monstrosity is not a sign of evil but maybe in his case it is some kind of self-defence, like a dog showing its teeth when frightened. The appearance of monsters hold no fear over Mallory.

“I’m not scared but I think you are. I’ll make no deals with you, I just want everyone to leave this place in peace. You can go back to the warlocks as their Alpha.”

“And you here as their Supreme?”

“Maybe, I don’t know. No deals Michael but we can still work together.”

He scoffs, looking at their spectators, who look a little antsy. Are they expecting heaven to smite him? Could that happen?  He stares at Mallory in anger. “Why are you doing this?”

“You don’t have to accept.”

“I don’t give in.”

“It’s not about wining or defeat. I just want to show you another way.”

“Even if what they say about me is true?”

“ _Especially_ if it’s true. Anyone can be saved,” Mallory walks over to him and gazes at the witches watching. “It’s true they’re hoping that this will destroy you but I don’t want that.”

“How _good_ of you,” he says with mock sweetness and Mallory fixes him with a fierce stare.

“Michael you may never get another chance. I can show you the way in the light but the rest is up to you.”

“There’s nothing you can do. It’s too late,” he says with a quiet acceptance and she feels a stab of pity. For a moment he is not a man or a monster but a boy. Mallory had never been sure of her purpose, why she had been given such strange gifts, but before this wretched person she suddenly feels it all clicking into place.

Mallory takes his hand and he looks down. “I promise I’ll bring you back, no matter what happens.”

Michael gazes into her eyes and again is met with nothing but honesty. She reminds him of Ms Meade and it fills him with comfort. He nods and looks up, inhaling deeply.

“Fine but let’s go somewhere more private,” he glances at the veranda and the people watching gasp as both Michael and Mallory disappear.


	3. Chapter 3

“He’s probably eating that poor girl’s heart at this moment,” Myrtle murmurs as others try to locate Michael and Mallory. Cordelia and John stare at a map intensely until they sigh and straighten.

“Wherever they went they don’t want to be found,” John says.

“How convenient. This reeks of sabotage,” Ariel hisses. John rolls his eyes and meets Cordelia’s gaze.

“ _Do_ you think Mallory is trying to harm him?”

“Not for a moment. I think they’re both fine, they probably wanted some privacy,” Cordelia looks at Myrtle. “Mallory _will_ be fine. I don’t think anyone could force her to do anything she didn’t want to, not even Michael Langdon.”

“I hope for her sake you’re right,” Myrtle sighs, looking out of the window, ignoring the warlocks. Maybe she thinks if she avoids them they will cease to exist. However, Cordelia has to concede that they are not all bad.

John Henry Moore had admitted in private his belief in the corruption of the warlocks, stemming from the power mad chancellor. If and when Michael returns John will not be returning to Hawthorn. That school had been his life but with the introduction of Michael Langdon it had started to rot from the inside out. He had died because of Michael and he prays that Mallory not only defeats him, but makes it hurt.

*

“Where are we?” Mallory asks. They were on the edge of a cliff overlooking a rough sea. Behind them woods stretched.

“Salem. Thought it fitting,” Michael moves behind her as she looks out at the ocean. “I could push you and solve all my problems.”

“You could but I’ve been told that witches float,” she says and then hovers a few inches off the ground. “I’m not afraid of you.”

Michael smiles as she settles back on her feet. If most people knew who he really was they would be terrified but not Mallory. Michael shakes his head. “You’re not afraid because you don’t really believe what you’ve been told.”

“I have an open mind…Do you believe in aliens?” she asks suddenly and Michael is completely thrown by the question.

“Huh? I don’t know.”

Mallory sits down, her black dress drawing back over her knees. “I do, or at least I have a different interpretation. I think most people would be afraid if they believed they really existed. Makes you question everything you thought you knew. They can take you from your home, from the road, at any moment and then do god knows what.”

“Right…” maybe the girl is actually mad but Michael sits beside her. He’ll humour her.

“So these beings abduct you, perform tests and then pop you back home. Most have no memory of what happens, just that they have these missing hours. I remember everything. It started when I was just a kid and never really stopped. My mother experienced the same, before I was born.”

 _Oh lord, she’s actually cracked_. Michael wants to laugh. He tries to keep an impassive face but she sees right through him.

“You think I’m crazy.”

“I’m sorry I just wasn’t expecting this.”

“You want me to believe you’re the Antichrist but you don’t believe in aliens?”

“I never said I was that.”

“You believe it,” she says flatly and Michael keeps silent. Just as he can tell if someone is lying so can Mallory. “I got bullied a lot at school because of it, when my beliefs got out, my abductions. I just didn’t know what else to call the experience. I never felt fear, only a sense of peace and acceptance. I only caught glimpses but yeah, I guess some would call them frightening.”

“Angels are described as horrific in the bible, in their true form,” Michael adds and Mallory nods.

“Exactly. They didn’t want to scare me, so they hid but I never felt fear. It felt like coming home.”

“So you think angels and – and aliens,” it hurts to say, “are one and the same?”

“I don’t know, I’m not sure I ever will…but I can take you there.”

Michael stares at the odd girl and wonders if this whole thing is a joke. He had stepped into his birth right and new life with Ms Meade as a Satanist easily, it felt natural and he never questioned it but this? His adoptive mother had always said that he had a destiny, that he would rebuild a new world, a better one where people could live as they chose to. He is a prince and soon to be king of a new order. Of course he had to wipe the slate clean and start again but does he really want to beam up before said destiny?

A giggle slips out of his mouth at the thought and he presses his knuckles to his lips. “Sorry. I don’t know how to respond to this.”

Mallory sighs. Truthfully she had expected a more understanding reaction. She gets up on her knees and leans over him. “I guess I gotta show you.”

Michael grabs her wrists before she can touch his head. “I don’t know what game you’re playing but I can burn your soul to nothing if you try anything you shouldn’t.”

Mallory smiles tenderly. “That’s the thing, my soul resides with them.”

 _Oh fuck_. As soon as her fingers touch his head Michael wishes that he had never seen Mallory, let alone accepted her challenge but it was too late. At the gentle touch of her hands a blinding light suddenly shines around them. Leaves and pebbles float into the air and Michael digs his hands into the earth in a futile attempt to resist. But the light is unlike any power he has felt before and at that moment it floods into Mallory like she had been waiting for it. She burns so bright he can hardly see but her voice is soft and clear in his mind.

_Let it in._

_What is it?_

_Whatever you want it to be. I’ll be with you the whole way. Let it in._

The core of Michael howls at the light, curling up in rage and a deep primal fear. But even beside that fear a part of him reaches for the light and in that moment of weakness the cliff edge where they sit disappears.

 

*

 

The light is warm and soft and he floats naked in a womb-like place. Everything he sees is pristine and pure, nothing blemished or bad, except that seed inside him. It burns with a strange darkness in that light. It is a burden and a powerful one but it’s who he is. It is his birth right.

_It doesn’t have to be._

Michael looks up and Mallory floats above him, embraced by that same warm fluid. She is naked as he is and for the first time he feels a flush of arousal. He reaches for her and her fingertips brush his. As a dark star burns in his breast a light shines in hers. 

_Did you have a father?_

Mallory shakes her head and then lowers into his waiting arms. It feels wonderful to hold her, something he has not experienced.  Not like this.

_Is this the place?_

_No, it’s like a waiting room. I can’t show you the next room. It’s beyond the light._

Michael wraps his arms around her tighter. He is scared at what he might find, that he will be trapped forever. Something from below pulls him away from Mallory and he fights, grasping onto her. Despite the feeling of warmth and love he does not know what is beyond the light. Nothing good could possibly accept him.

_I want to go back! I’ll burn this down! I want to go back!_

_You’re safe with me. Let it help you._

_No!_

Michael struggles but he is powerless. The light bathes him and sinks in like sunshine, curling around the dark in his chest. He could give in, embrace the cleansing but he is afraid. He howls in anguish as that part of him rebels. It feels like his soul is being ripped apart and he will not survive.

 _Father!_ He screams and screams to be saved but there is nothing but the light and Mallory. This place is the antitheses of his father and as such Michael knows he does not belong.

 _Everything begins and ends here, even the one you cry to,_ a voice whispers and it does not belong to Mallory or anyone he knows. It has no physical presence but at once he pictures something female and maternal. At the gentle sound he stops fighting and the light retreats.  He and Mallory are left alone and she holds him.

_Has she gone? Is – is this real?_

_Yes…it can’t take what you don’t want to give._ Her fingers hover over that dark star inside him and then touch his face, his lips. _I can take you back or you can go ahead_.

Michael wants to return but that is fear talking and he is not a coward. His grandma had been very clear about not raising one and despite her abandonment he did not want to disappoint her.

_What do I do?_

_Ascend._

Mallory suddenly moves from his arms and he watches her floating upwards before the light swallows her up. Not wanting to be left alone he reaches up, trying to follow but he feels like a leaden weight. He closes his eyes, centring himself and wills himself to be with Mallory, succumbing to that feeling completely.

He opens his eyes and the light and odd fluid is gone. Mallory stands before him, The Atlantic now frozen behind her. They are back in Salem but one now in the grip of winter.

“Is it over? Are we back?”

Mallory shakes her head. “No. This is what might happen if you truly ascend Michael, if you accept their help.” She points behind him and he turns. Before he had seen nothing but woods but now a huge building stands tall amongst the trees.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know, let’s go find out,” she smiles up at him as she passes, no fear or hostility, and after a moment Michael follows her into the woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In s2 they introduced aliens but Ryan Murphy said that they were basically an allegory for angels, so that's what I'm going with here.
> 
> So this is a kinda ghosts of futures past/what could happen story.


	4. Chapter 4

They come to a clearing in the woods. A huge oak tree grows atop of a lush, grassy mound. Mallory smiles.

“Like Bag End.”

“Huh?” Michael frowns and moves around the low hill. His frown deepens as a large, round door comes into view. It is red, with a knocker and currently standing ajar. Mallory laughs outright.

“Guess someone is a fan,” she moves forward but Michael grabs her arm.

“It looks like a bunker.” He and Ms Mead had talked about fallout shelters and she had shown him pictures of concrete edifices jutting up from the earth. They did not look like this but still. They move closer and peer at a symbol carved into the concrete above the door. An eye within a triangle, rays emanating from it.

“Like on the dollar bill…” Michael murmurs and then follows Mallory in. A blast door stands open and a long corridor stretches beyond. White tiles are illuminated by lamps, all burning steadily. Whatever this place is it still has power. They walk along, their footfalls echoing around them, the only sound.

Mallory eyes Michael as they come to another open door. “They told me that this is what might happen if you accept their help.”

“I have to go live underground like a Hobbit? My grandmother read it to me,” he adds at her smirk. Due to his rapid growth spurt he has missed out on certain cultural milestones but he’s not completely out of the loop.

“A wealthy Hobbit,” she whispers in awe as they step into a foyer. Black marble glimmers under their feet, while brass framed mirrors line the walls. Cream leather couches ring mahogany tables. It is more a common room than a foyer Malory thinks. Again the Eye symbol appears on the wall over a dead fireplace. She knows it to be The Eye of Providence, a sign of a higher power watching over them. It being buried underground makes her feel uneasy.

“This place is awesome,” Michael gushes, trailing his fingers over a shiny bar top. Bottles of alcohol line the wall. Mallory says nothing and follows him into another corridor, this one just as lavishly decorated as the previous room. They explore, peeking into huge en-suit living quarters, carpets plush underfoot and TV screens taking up entire walls. In one corridor an aquarium arcs over them, the waters clear but no fish to be seen.

“No one is here,” Michael says as they walk into something like a laboratory, computer terminals everywhere.

“Or they can’t hear us. I’ve done something like this before and no one could see or hear me,” Mallory clarifies at his puzzled look. He moves closer to her, head tilting.

“You saw what your life could be like?”

“No, what it _will_ be like,” she corrects softly and looks away. She had seen what her fate entails and how it will end and she has come to accept it. However in all the things she had seen she had not seen Michael and yet here they are.

Mallory covers her sadness with a small smile and moves away from him. His gaze follows her, wondering yet again how he had not felt her presence before now. If Ariel had not suggested visiting the witches to test their allegiance to Michael he might have never met her. He is still ruminating if that is a good thing, if this whole experience is a trick. Either way she has him deeply curious.

They reach a set of massive wooden doors and Michael tries to use his power to open them but they remain closed. Mallory tries to the same effect. In this place, whatever it is, they have no magic. They put their shoulders to the doors and push. Above the Eye watches them. The interior is dark and smells of wood polish and something else, a tangy scent like cooper.

“Blood,” Michael says at once and they stop by the doors. The room is a chapel with unlit torches along the walls, set between tapestries. It is too dark to make out so they move closer, walking amongst wooden benches. Mallory looks up the aisle towards the alter and inhales sharply. She expects to see a crucifix but instead there is a large oil painting of a beautiful man draped in red, floating above a sun.

“That – that’s me,” Michael says with shock and they peer closer. The Michael in the painting has long golden hair, his arms outstretched over the sun. Except it is not the sun but the earth burning, a ring of ashy cloud around it. A small, satisfied smile is on his face as below the earth small huddled figures raise their arms to him in benediction. Or mercy.

“ _The Antichrist_ ,” Mallory reads the name of the painting from a plaque below and then looks at Michael. He wears an amused smile, mirroring the one in the painting. He turns to her and tilts his head.

“I’ll get cleansed if I accept their help huh? Doesn’t look like it works.”

“I – I don’t understand. They told me this is what happens if you purge the darkness inside you.”

“Maybe they don’t have the power to do it? My Father is not so easily cast out,” his smile grows and Mallory hates it. He was meant to come here and see how much better his life would be without the awful parasite within him. This has only shown him that he will be worshipped like a god.

Mallory shakes her head. “No, they were clear. This is not a mistake,” she stares at the painting until it blurs and then turns away. She sighs, steeling herself. She is not giving up.

“There was a big house in the woods. Maybe there are people there?” Mallory asks and Michael agrees. They retrace their steps and reach the surface, inhaling deeply though the air supply below had been ample.

“So that luxury bunker was at one point filled with people who –”

“Someone’s coming!” Mallory interrupts and Michael freezes. From the open fallout door they hear footsteps. He almost hides but remembers what Mallory had said. No one can see them.

“Hey! It’s me! Your Lord and Saviour,” Michael shouts into the bunker but receives no answer, just the continuing footsteps. Mallory looks at him stonily and he shrugs. “Just checking.”

“It’s got warmer, that’s good,” a man’s voice says as two people exit the bunker. A dark cloak covers their heads as they turn back to face the doorway. A ring covered hand stretches out as John Henry Moore lowers his hood. Michael and Mallory blink in shock as the warlock closes the bunker door with a flick of his fingers. Next to him a smaller person lowers their hood and Mallory’s stomach flips.

“Oh my god, it’s me.”

The Mallory before her appears around ten years older, dressed in a red velvet cloak and lace gloves. Mallory is reminded of her first day at Robichaux's, where Zoe had told her that it is a rule that witches must dress like every day is Halloween. It is a creed that the Warlocks seem to follow too. Michael and Mallory watch as red clocked Mallory and John move past them, giving no hint that they had been seen. They walk into the trees, towards the house whose spire can be seen above the trees.

“I take it you weren’t expecting to see yourself?” Michael asks, hands behind his back and his amusement is palatable. Mallory is too shocked to care.

“I know my future, I know how it ends. I shouldn’t be here…” Mallory shakes her head, wondering if the ones who sent them here have made a mistake. It’s impossible.

“Come on, let’s follow them. You,” he adds and begins walking, leaving Mallory to fall into step behind. Since meeting Mallory she had been infused with a sense of calm certainty while he had been floundering. It is refreshing to have the roles reversed.

 _Not that I have a clue what is going on_ , he thinks but ignores it. He will have answers in time.  He’s just seen his future and in it he is worshipped. Ms Mead is right, he _will_ bring about a New Order and it seems that little Mallory is a part of that. Interesting…

They catch up with John and older Mallory, who stop before the white building. It is massive, reminding Mallory heavily of the school in New Orleans but double the size. The difference is after the stone edifice a glass corridor stretches the entire height of the building, before connecting again with stone. It is as if someone had taken a slice out of the stone building and replaced it with a cube of glass.

“I was shown pictures of Hawthorne before it was destroyed. It looked a lot like that,” he flourishes a hand around. The grounds are immaculate, hedges and bushes lush with life. Stone steps lead to double doors and they follow, looking at a plaque on the staircase.

_THE SANCTUARY_

“You heard of it?” Mallory asks and Michael shakes his head. They enter the mansion and again they freeze in surprise. A large group of people, both men and women, gather around John and older Mallory, who smiles in greeting.

“The Supreme is back,” a voice says and they turn to see Cordelia walking along the glass corridor, her heels clacking hurriedly on the cream marble below. She touches Mallory’s face and then takes John’s hand. He smirks at her.

“And your husband but whatever.”

Cordelia waves a dismissive hand and then laughs, kissing him.

“Daddy!” a little girl runs into the foyer, trailed behind by a woman with wavy blonde hair. Michael recognises her as the witch he rescued from hell, Misty Day. The little girl, who appears about four, jumps into John’s arms as Misty hooks her arm around Cordelia’s elbow. She kisses the corner of her mouth and then smiles warmly at John.

“You’re safe. I hate it when you go out there!”

“Gotta expand the parameter,” he shrugs and then the family moves out of ear shot. Mallory, who had been too shocked to move, now begins to smile.

“They’re all alive.”

“And you’re their Supreme,” Michael adds, watching as said Supreme takes her gloves off and walks along the glass corridor. Amazed at what she is seeing Mallory follows herself, Michael staying behind to overhear what the other witches and warlocks have to say. Mallory can hear the little girl – Cordelia’s she assumes – laughing in the distance and the confusion that clouded her mind begins to rise. _The Sanctuary_ houses witches and warlocks, now united and at peace.

“And I’m their Supreme…” Mallory whispers to herself as she comes upon a marble wall with a large oak door set at the bottom. She enters and looks around a beautiful library. Witches and warlocks, along with Cordelia and her family, sit on leather couches. A fire burns from a raised bed, flickering light and shadows over books and spiral staircases. She looks up to see the Supremes’ red cloak disappearing and quickly follows herself up the stairs.

Light shines from windows as she moves along a hallway. The Supreme opens a door and then suddenly gasps as something barrels into her, pushing her against the opposite wall. Mallory, who had thrown out a hand to protect her older self, blinks in shock as she hears herself laughing. The man has his back to her but she can see his blonde hair is tied up in a messy knot, his clothes black and elegant.

_Michael?_

Mallory moves closer, eyes wide and stomach flip flopping. The man reaches down and hikes the Supreme up and she kneads her head back against the wall in a state of rapture, exposing her neck. Lips brush her throat and Mallory sees the angle of his jaw, the golden stubble growing there and wants to look away, to deny it but she is transfixed.

“I think you do this on purpose,” he says as older Mallory hooks her legs around his waist.

“What?”

“Volunteer to go out there knowing I go crazy being stuck here without you,” his voice is rough and his teeth gleam as he bites tenderly at her neck and shoulder. The cloak she wears falls to the ground, exposing the black silk beneath. Mallory, who has never counted herself a voyeur, moves around to get a better look, still doubting what she is seeing.

The Supreme cups his face and gazes into his eyes. “I missed you too Michael.” She leans down and kisses his lips gently which elicits a soft growl from him. He runs his hand down her body, disappearing between her legs before pulling her from the wall and carrying her into a room. Mallory, out and breath and red hot, follows but the door closes in her face. Trying to get her breathing under control she turns and sees short haired Michael standing behind her, his eyes wide and mouth open.

“I – I overheard people talking…I’m not the Antichrist anymore. I uh…” whatever he had found out seems to have disappeared in the face of what he had just witnessed. “Was that you…and _me_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final? What final?
> 
> Anywho sorry for the wait!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm calling older Mallory the Supreme for clarity.

Michael is about to follow Mallory as she moves into the glass corridor but pauses when someone mentions his name.

“Langdon will be relieved,” Myrtle Snow says and Michael is amused to see that the witch’s hair is now even larger but quickly focuses. Is there a version of himself here?

“He tried to follow her again,” Behold says, dressed lavishly in a purple cloak swept over one shoulder. “I had to bewitch him to stay in their room until she returned.”

Myrtle sighs, shaking her head as the younger witches and warlocks leave. “He still thinks he’s capable of feats of a Supreme.”

“Or an Alpha. He has to accept that he’s a target out there _and_ he’s just a level 3 like the rest of us,” Behold finishes and they share a nod of agreement.

Michael clenches his jaw, his nostrils flaring, struggling to comprehend. He is just an ordinary warlock in this future? A future where he’s now locked in a room like a misbehaving dog? After glaring at Myrtle he hurries along the glass corridor, barely noticing the library as he enters and looks upwards. He might not have any magic in this reality but he can feel Mallory like a magnetising force. He follows that pull, jumping up the stairs, needing someone to share this awful news with.

At the end of a sunlit hallway he sees Mallory, her back to him, and is about to say her name when he notices the people standing before her. Kissing. A spike of juvenile excitement pierces him as he recognises that the woman is Mallory, now pinned to the wall by a man. Lacing through that heady feeling is a bloom of jealousy.

 _Who the fuck…?_ He takes a step forward when he hears his name again and freezes. The man slips his hand down her body and then up her dress, his face buried in the curve of her neck. _My face?_

Michael blinks as the couple turn from the wall and he gets a good look at himself, now at least ten years older. He looks wild, his face no longer smooth but scruffy with stubble. His hair is long, tied up in a knot, which Mallory fists as they disappear into the room. _Their room._

His eyes shift to his Mallory, the tiny girl with outlandish beliefs. What is stranger than the belief that she can save him? That she _wants_ to? For Michael that tops her belief in aliens. Well, almost. Michael licks his lips and tries to speak as she turns to him.

“I – I overheard people talking…I’m not the Antichrist anymore. I uh…Was that you…and me?”

Mallory blinks, her face red and eyes wide. She inhales, trying to get control of her breathing. “You – you’re not the Antichrist anymore?”

“I don’t think so…” Michael moves closer, looking at the closed door. An intense need pulses through him. “That was me.”

“…I guess,” she murmurs, now avoiding his gaze. She presses her back against the wall and starts to slide to the side, trying to pass without touching him, even though they are a foot apart. Despite the hectic blood rush that is happening inside he smiles at her reserve. He takes a step closer.

“They couldn’t see us…I wanna see,” he says quickly, reaching for the door.

“No!” Mallory grips his wrist, her expression scandalised. “That would be…it would be…”

“What?” he smiles at her struggle, face going red again.

“Intrusive.”

“But it’s us. I don’t mind,” he shrugs but she tightens her grip.

“I do. I don’t understand what’s going on, I’m not even sure if any of this is real.”

“Why not?” he closes the distance between them, his arm still in her grip. She looks up at him and swallows.

“Because I don’t have a future. I die,” she admits for the first time to anyone. Michael shakes his head, unable to take his gaze away from hers. From the room beyond they hear a rhythmic thump, one mirroring the beat of their hearts. Mallory’s eyes close at the sound. In truth he feels just as bewildered but making Mallory squirm sends a thrill through him bordering on erotic. He leans his head down, lips inches from hers.

“You won’t die Mallory, I’ll make sure of it.”

“How?”

“If you stay with me you'll be safe,” he breathes against her lips and she smiles softly, eyes still closed.

“They say the devil is tempting…” she opens her eyes and her gaze is hooded and hot. That erotic pulse is now a fire in him. He had been told that he could have anything he wanted, _anyone_ and have every desire fulfilled. He had not felt even a moment of longing at the prospect; carnal pleasures meant nothing to him but now he feels engulfed by it.

He inhales and then brushes his lips softly against hers and pulls back, both their eyes wide open. He feels her smaller body against his, the rise and fall of her chest. Her breasts. He wants to pick her up and push her up the wall, as he had seen. Mallory moans, a low guttural sound and he grows hard. She sounds husky normally but this is like chocolate. _I love her voice_ , he thinks with bleary clarity and is so aroused that it takes him a moment to realise that she has slipped away.

“Stop,” she pants, hand thrown out. Michael moves uncontrollably but stops at her stricken look. “I think we’re being influenced.”

“What?” he can barely think, just wants to touch her again.

“Being near them. Us. I think we feel what they’re feeling,” she points at the door and Michael turns. Their future selves are making love, overwhelmed by that sensation. Are they soaking that up? He frowns, turns to Mallory but she is already halfway down the hallway. As she disappears around a corner the white hot desire fades into an ache and Michael sighs.

“…Well, now I know how inconvenient this thing is …” he stares down at his erection with distaste and after giving the door an accusatory glance he follows after Mallory.

*

After spending time exploring he finds her on a balcony, near the top of the _Sanctuary_. The spire rises above them, lost in cloud. He had given her some space, if only to get himself under control. After that display he feels embarrassed and confused. Still not quite sure what to say he looks at the view and slowly his discomfort fades as he realises what he is seeing.

The grounds surrounding _the Sanctuary_  stretch a few acres, enough to house a large garden, vegetable patch and greenhouse. Beyond that he can make out tennis courts and an empty swimming pool. The trees are asleep, in the midst of winter but as he looks further he sees that the trees beyond are not just asleep but dead.

“Beyond the _Sanctuary_ it’s nuclear winter,” Mallory says sadly as he moves beside her. He leans against the white banister, still not looking at her. “They must have protected this place with magic.”

Michael nods. “Someone set off a bomb?”

Mallory looks at him swiftly, gaze sharp. “Like you don’t know.”

“What?” he straightens as she turns to him finally.

“Cordelia had a vision of the world ending in fire, ash and smoke. Nothing survives.”

Michael nods. “I remember. She said we had to work together to prevent it. You think I did this?” he waves a hand over the landscape and smirks. “Pretty sure I don’t have the codes for launch on me,” he pats down his chest and searches his pockets.

Mallory rolls her eyes and looks away. “She saw a white faced demon.”

Michael opens his mouth to counter but nothing emerges. He can show that side of himself, if he lets his father in completely. Sometimes he seems to have no choice, at mercy to anger and rage. Fear. He retreats deeper into himself each time it happens. Pushing these thoughts away Michael looks up at the sky, at the ash blocking out the sun. Sometimes it shines through dimly but never enough to touch the ground. _The_ _Sanctuary_ is dappled in light, the sky above dotted with clouds and a blue sky.

Mallory clears her throat. “So…can we just pretend that never happened?”

Michael gazes at her, saying nothing before nodding. “Okay…this alien experiment is purely business.” This gets a smile from her and he feels a frizzle of accomplishment.

“Let’s say this is a future that could happen. You are cleansed and a bunch of us come to live here…but for whatever reason we don’t stop this from happening,” she motions at the ruins of the land. “We live but billions die.”

“Including the 1%,” Michael adds, pointing at the bunker below. “I walked around and the only ones here are witches and warlocks.”

“So is that the price? You become a normal warlock but the world still ends?”

“I dunno,” Michael shrugs and looks away from her. A large part of him that is obsessively driven to fulfil his purpose is pleased that the world has been swept clean. The _how_ had stumped him but the nuclear destruction around him has answered that question. A third world war ravishes the planet and the world now belongs to the magical. Those who have the power to create life, to make something better. Mallory being in a position of power over him leaves a bitter taste but he would feel the same no matter the Supreme. He is the son of Satan, a king of this new earth and he should not be placed below anyone. Exhaling out this built up aggression he focuses on Mallory. She wants to save him, despite everyone else wishing him dead. Why? He gazes at her intensely until she notices and tilts her head.

“What?”

“Why help me?”

“I told you. I don’t want to fight or harm you. This is the other path Michael,” she stares beseechingly at him, reaching out to touch his arm.

“Where you reign Supreme and I lose most of my powers?” he responds and she purses her lips.

“I didn’t know this would happen. For the longest time I’ve believed that I’ll die. They showed it to me,” she waves a hand at the sky. “It happens during Halloween.”

“How?” he is curious, she seems completely sincere.

Her cheeks grow red. “I drown in a bathtub.”

“You’re joking?” he asks, trying not to laugh as she shakes her head, deadly serious. “What year?”

“I dunno,” she slumps and looks away, dropping her hand from his arm but he quickly takes hold of it. She looks up in surprise.

“I think you’re being honest about everything, I can tell when people are lying. You want to save me but Mallory…” he shakes his head and looks out over the view. “I don’t need saving…but it seems like you do.”

Mallory breathes in and holds it. She knows that she will die young, has that vision burned into her mind, so seeing herself older and now Supreme has turned her perceptions upside down. For the first time it seems like she has some hope to grip onto.

Mallory squeezes his fingers. “Why help me?” she asks, repeating his question with a smile.

Michael smiles and then presses his lips together. “Hmm, guess you’re rubbing off on me.”

They smile at each other, forgetting about _the Sanctuary_ and the rubble for a moment. Mallory moves closer, allowing herself to truly appreciate his beauty. He is magnificent and it just makes the darkness inside him even more of an aberration. He has been polluted and poisoned and thinks it’s his birth right and not a perversion of an innocent soul.

 “If you decide not to accept their help what will you do?”

“Get that awesome painting of me commissioned?”

“Michael.”

He grins and then slowly drops it. “Being what I am doesn’t have to be a bad thing Mallory. The world as we know it is fucked. It’s corrupt at every level and facet. Is it wrong to want to change that?”

“Well no but the bible –”

“Fuck the bible. It’s prophecy and that’s malleable. I’m not some maniac wanting to slaughter billions. I just want something better. Don’t you?”

Mallory doesn’t answer. She looks down at the grounds, seeing young witches and warlocks running over the lawn to the large greenhouse. She can hear their laughter from up here. The world has ended but they live on in peace.

“I’m alive here…I’m Supreme,” she shakes her head in wonder. “And you and me,” she adds but quickly grows silent.

Michael tilts his head, his curls fluttering in the breeze. “You and me?”

“You don’t want that,” she answers. “You’re not ruling here. Isn’t that what you really want?”

Michael frowns, having no answer for her. Uncomfortable, he smiles and looks away. “I’m still processing _that_. Let’s put that in a box for now. Pretend it didn’t happen, like you said.”

Mallory continues to stare at him, stomach squeezing painfully. They had only just met and she should not feel this hurt but she does. He would choose an evil destiny over her. Mallory looks away, ringing the railing as Michael takes a step back.

“I’m going to look for Cordelia, see if I can find out anymore.”

“Okay…” she keeps her gaze on the horizon until he leaves, her stomach filling with lead at each step.

*

She stays up there until the sun begins to set behind dirty crimson clouds. She feels no hunger or tiredness, reminded that her true body is floating in the light. She and Michael cannot stay for much longer. She straightens, about to turn when she sees a shadow behind her. Her hands clench, thinking it's Michael but the older version of herself steps onto the balcony. Mallory gasps, seeing herself up close. She is dressed in a white night gown, which she belts over her stomach. Her round stomach. Stunned Mallory moves back as the Supreme stands where she had been.

“I’m pregnant?” she asks and receives no answer, older Mallory continuing to stare at the sunset. Mouth agape Mallory fumbles back for the door but her feet will not move. “This is unreal,” she whispers and older Mallory cocks her head.

“I know you’re there.”

“What the fuck?!” Mallory gasps as the Supreme looks over her shoulder.

“I can’t see you but I remember this conversation,” she says and Mallory stops breathing. The Supreme looks back at the darkening sky. “You’re freaking out right now but it’s okay. This is real. You’re in the future, one that happened despite my attempts to stop it.”

"What?"

"But you can stop this from happening. You have to."


	6. Chapter 6

Mallory closes her mouth and swallows, her throat dry. “You know I’m here? Can you hear me?”

Older Mallory narrows her eyes in remembrance. “I can’t see or hear you but this has already happened to me. Time travel is a bitch,” she adds dryly and then turns. She places her hands over her stomach. “They sent you here to show _you_ , not Michael, that there’s another way. You won’t die because he won’t let you…”

“Michael?”

“He still won’t let me,” she says, shaking her head and looking down at her belly. Mallory assumes she is about three or four months pregnant. The Supreme looks up and there are tears in her eyes. “I have the power now to end this but I can’t. I can’t let go.”

Mallory, soaking up her anguish, feels tears rolling down her own cheeks. “I – I don’t understand.”

“I _could_ travel back in time, undo everything before the bombs fell but I’m selfish. You’re not. Back then it wasn’t too late. You’re growing in power every day, I remember, and soon you’ll be strong enough for _Tempus Infinitum_.”

Head swirling with confusion Mallory tries to grasp onto something that has been said. “ _Tempus Infinitum_? Is that a spell? What – what am I meant to do?”

But older Mallory turns away to watch the last of the sunset. “Michael thought that he had control over his life, his destiny but he didn’t. He was nothing but a vessel. That white face, you know the one. Imagine being stuck like that, your soul stuffed into a corner while the Devil takes you over completely. That is his fate and you have to convince him of that. Save him.”

Mallory is utterly bewildered now. “This is too much. I – I need to think.” As if hearing her – or remembering – the Supreme falls silent. Mallory sits on the threshold of the door, back to herself.

 _She – me – wants to change the past to stop the future. Time travel. Can I do that?_ She thinks of the times as a child where odd things happened around her: her old dog becoming a puppy for an hour. Repeating an entire week of preschool because she loved her retiring teacher so much. These occurrences had been so surreal that she came to doubt the truth, especially as most involved denied it had happened. People will ignore the supernatural for the sake of their sanity.

 _Older me won’t do it, won’t save the world because…because she is in love_. _In love with this place, in love with the life growing inside her and in love with the man who put it there._ _Michael…_ a stab of affection bleeds through her at the thought of him. She is not sure if the feeling is her own or absorbed from her future self.

“It’s not just my happiness I’d be sacrificing but everyone’s here,” older Mallory says quietly and she turns to look at her. “Cordelia has a family now and they’re so happy. Little Fee is so wonderful, so powerful already. She’ll probably take over from me one day…” she says with a wistful smile, hand rubbing soothing circles around her stomach. The dreamy gaze hardens. “But in your time John and Cordelia barely know each other. Cordelia has Misty so it’s not all bad and I saved John. He’ll – he’ll be okay. A few hundred of us are not worth billions, no matter what Michael says.”

Mallory stands up and reaches out to touch older Mallory. Her hand passes through her like she is made of mist. She can only touch the immaterial. Defeated she grows limp and gazes at her. “If I do what you’re saying, stop this future from happening, what will happen instead?” Again she receives no answer. Maybe the Supreme for all her power has no idea either.

“I wrote a diary, things that lead to this point. It’s in my room. Read it.”

Mallory opens her mouth to speak, knowing it’s futile, when someone appears at the door.

“Hey, wondered where you were,” Michael says to his Supreme, who smirks.

“Like you don’t know. Come on, I’m hungry,” she takes Michael’s hand, whose long hair is now lose and flowing like silk. Mallory has a vision of running her hands through it and feels a hot throb at her core.

She watches them leave before following, curious. Mallory has never had a lasting relationship, never found anyone that could comprehend her life, but it seems she has found it with Michael Langdon.

_And she wants me to destroy it._

_*_

Michael heads back into the library, mind whirling with confusion. In this future he and Mallory are together, something that seems impossible to him. Mallory is a witch and one connected to a higher power, a light that is the antitheses to the darkness he wields. She had been quick to pretend the kiss they shared had not happened. Maybe for all her sincerity about helping him a part of her is disgusted.

_It doesn’t matter, I’m not getting upset over something so primal. So mundane._

The lust he had felt had been overwhelming and now leaves a bitter aftertaste. He has never been victim to carnal desires, considering himself above it. It is a tool, something to be used to manipulate situations to his favour, nothing more.  Michael drags his attention back to the library. Cordelia - who somehow still appears to be alive despite Mallory being the Supreme - and her family sit before the fire, while through a doorway the rest of the library is visible. It is huge and dimly lit, reading tables of shiny mahogany in the centre of the room, smelling of bees wax polish. An army of bookcases spiral out from the tables while the walls stretch high, separated into two mezzanine levels. Michael assumes this is all the books recovered before the bombs. There had to be thousands, maybe more. He considers that whoever built the _Sanctuary_ not only knew about the apocalypse and took precautions to make the building withstand the destruction but also went about preserving as much knowledge as they could. Fine art, wine, land, gold and silver, that’s what he would save.

 _And a little magic to keep the whole thing standing_ , he thinks as he turns his attention to the witches as Myrtle takes a seat in an armchair by the fire, followed by Baldwin. Michael had thought him dead, not seeing him before this. His thoughts turn to Ms Mead, who is missing from the building. He hopes that she is safe because if anything has happened to her he would not bear it. Michael pushes these spikes of dread away and looks at the others gathered. He recognises some of the warlocks he studies with and a few teachers. All had regarded him with awe and reverence. The only warlock that is unaccounted for is the Grand Chancellor, Ariel. Baldwin takes a seat by a piano and begins to play.

“Ahh, Debussy. You treat us Mr Pennypacker,” Myrtle says wistfully, swirling a glass of red wine. As the warlock plays John Henry and Cordelia read, the warlock’s long legs crossed at the ankles while Misty plays with the little girl at a table. They are colouring in, the girl drawing people Michael assumes are the other inhabitants of the _Sanctuary_. The girl, who looks around four, wiggles her fingers and a crayon floats to her hand. Michael smiles.

“Mama?”

“Yes baby?” Misty answers, focusing on a detailed drawing of the moon and stars.

“No white face can get in right?”

“Of course not,” Cordelia answers, lowering her book. “Strong – strong magic guards us. Only good people are allowed in and only those we invite.”

“Like Michael, mommy?”

“…That’s right,” Cordelia answers after a pause.

“…Daddy?” she asks, still not looking up from her drawing. John hums to show he is listening. “What if they come anyway?”

“Then we’ll spray them with the hose like we do to the raccoons,” John answers flatly, not looking up from his book. Cordelia scoffs, digging her foot into his thigh and he shoots her a mischievous glance.

“Don’t you worry your head about it Fee-Fee. We’re all safe here,” Misty says soothingly, kissing her daughter’s head, who nods and goes back to drawing. Michael peers at her artwork and blinks. A group of figures in black with white faces and black eyes ring a building with a spire. _The Sanctuary._ Misty gives Cordelia a troubled look and she shakes her head. Whatever is troubling them they don’t want to mention it in front of the child.

Michael straightens, mind yet again wandering back to Mallory and the kiss they shared, when the little girl squeals with laughter and he looks back sharply. The older version of himself had sneaked up behind the little girl and begun tickling her.

“Ahh she’s got me!” Michael wails, hands jammed under her arms.

“ _Stooop_!” Fee laughs, wiggling and trying to get away.

“Gotta stop with those sneak attacks Fee, it’s just mean,” Michael says, straightening with a grin on his face. He flops down into an armchair with a sigh, the little girl moving to sit on his feet, the paper and pens trailing after her to settle on the ground.

John lowers his book, looking at his daughter sitting on Michael’s feet and smirks. “You better get used to that.”

“Yeah…” older Michael answers, his joy dimming a little with trepidation. They fall into a silence, listening to Baldwin play until Fee starts to yawn and Cordelia proclaims that it is bed time. The girl pouts and denies the truth of the statement until she clings weakly to Cordelia’s back, who hooks her arms under her knees. Michael watches as she and Misty take the little girl from the room for a bath.

Fee now gone John looks at the drawing she had done, his expression grim before showing it to Michael.  “She used to draw these of you, before we let you in. She called you the Prince.”

“You think they’re going to attack?” Michael asks, taking the paper from John.

“You know them better than any of us, you tell me,” John answers, looking down at Michael whose jaw clenches. He is a little older, not necessarily in age but in a way he carries himself. The child within Michael is never far away but in this future his maturity seems real and not an act. Michael had always felt undermined around John Henry Moore, the warlock distrustful of him from the start. It appears not much has changed. He supposes he can’t have the man killed a second time.

“I haven’t seen any of them since I came here, you know that. If they do come trust me it’s not to pursued me to join them again,” Michael answers flatly and John nods, moving to sit down.

“They think you’re a traitor.”

“I am and they treat traitors much the same way you do,” he answers and his voice is cold. His gaze moves back to the drawing, his anger fading into introspection. “There were some that wanted to be saved, to be exorcised. I thought they would follow. Most were just kids…”

“That was two months ago dear. If the son of Satan defecting doesn’t convince them than nothing will,” Myrtle chimes in and John nods in agreement.

“You had another factor in play that those _kids_ do not, lucky for us,” Baldwin says, closing the piano cover over the keys and then smiles brightly as the Supreme walks into the room. He motions to Mallory, who lifts her eyebrows as she takes a seat on the armrest of Michael’s chair. He at once moves to sit on the other arm rest and tugs Mallory into the seat.

“ _Supremely_ lucky,” Myrtle adds dryly, getting to her feet. It seems that it is time for bed. The witch and warlocks bid goodnight until Mallory, Michael and John are alone.  Mallory spots the drawing that Michael holds and looks up at him in worry.

“She drew more?”

“Yeah. We’ll be ready for them Mal,” Michael says, getting on his knees before her. He squeezes her legs as she leans forward, forehead against his.

“I won’t let them take you.”

“It’s not just me they want. That’s why I hate it when you leave. It’s not safe.”

“I’m the Supreme. The world out there can be saved, little by little and I can do it. I have to,” Mallory counters softly but Michael shakes his head.

“You can be killed. If that happens I’d take them and this whole place down with me,” he says with a quiet, dreadful certainty and Mallory leans back.

“Halloween is approaching -” Mallory says but Michael shakes his head and stands up.

“No. I stopped that from happening. If you think _I’ll_ go fucking crazy if you attempt _Tempus Infinitum_ again it’ll be nothing to the witches.”

Mallory sighs and sits back. “I know.”

Michael, invisible and quiet, has been still and watchful, trying to take in as much information as he can. A lot of it is a mystery to him but some is starting to make sense. Two months before he had defected, abandoning his position as the Antichrist, purged his soul and joined Mallory at the Sanctuary.  If someone had told him that this would be his fate without witnessing it he would have denied it fiercely. Give up his destiny for a girl? For a life where his power is diminished and his previous allies hunt him? Ridiculous.

But now, watching his future unfold around him the truth is laid bare and undeniable. Not only that but he can feel the love and adoration rushing through his older self. He knows love, he has felt it in his life for his grandma and his Ms Mead but this is something altogether different. It obliterates any doubts or fears, his conviction for Mallory and their life is fiercely powerful, almost a monstrous thing in itself.  He had been truthful about raising hell if anything happened to her, but this destruction is stemmed from a light so bright and pure it makes the impurity inside him currently look like a speck of mould next to the sun.

He is happy, truly and honestly. For the first time in his life he can feel a sense of belonging emitting from his older self and it is rapturous. He wishes to stay as a strange ghost in this place, to soak up the feelings and experiences in a blissful daze. Here there is no pressure of a dark destiny, no responsibility or expectations. 

“Michael? We should go,” a voice says and he looks across the room. Mallory, his Mallory, walks towards him, ignoring the other people in the library. “If we stay here for too long it’ll be harder to get back.”

“Is that a bad thing?” he asks and she smiles, coming to his side. He gazes down at her and again has no idea if the affection pulsing through him is his own. “This place is strange. I don’t know what to feel.”

“That’s why we have to go. We need to make sense of all this,” Mallory answers and tugs on his hand but Michael stops her.

“I think something bad is going to happen here.”

Mallory looks around and shakes her head. “There’s nothing we can do. Not yet,” she adds and pulls him from the library until they enter the glass corridor. Night has fallen and the grounds outside are dark. Strip lights set into the marble show the way to the exit.

As they leave the _Sanctuary_ Mallory looks back. “Did – did you notice anything about me? Older me I mean.”

“No. Should I have?”

“No, nothing. Thought I put on a little weight,” Mallory smiles and begins walking ahead, leaving Michael to stare at her back before catching up. They reach the cliff edge where they had originally appeared. The frozen ocean beyond is too dark to see.

Michel and Mallory come to a stop, facing each other. He stares back at the _Sanctuary_ , almost hidden by the trees. “So that’s my fate.”

“And mine.”

“ _If_ I get an exorcism by your alien friends,” he adds and Mallory rolls her eyes.

“It’s not a joke. Will you do it?”

“No,” he answers without hesitation and Mallory is stunned.

“After everything you saw? You’re free from hell, you’re part of the coven. You don’t want that?”

_You don’t want me?_

Michael points back at the building. “He only joined you two months ago. Older me spent _years_ as the Antichrist, saw in the apocalypse and I’m assuming had that bunker built with others. What happened two months ago that would make me switch sides?”

Mallory opens her mouth and then closes it, looking aside. “I don’t know.”

Michael cocks his head and bends to try and catch her eyes. “You’re hiding something.”

Mallory shakes her head and looks up. “Maybe you did it for me?”

This time it is Michael’s turn to hesitate. He wants to deny it but he had felt the love and loyalty between them. Had those feelings grew just within the last two months in this future? Something does not add up.

“Maybe…would you do that for me?” he asks suddenly and Mallory opens her mouth, eyes wide.

“Join your side?”

“The _bad_ side yes,” he answers and is amused at her floundering. He tries to picture her at a Black Mass eating a heart but cannot imagine it.

Mallory is silent for a while before she answers. “No one confronted me when I attempted _Descensum._  You know why?” she asks and he shakes his head. “Every demon I saw scurried away like frightened mice. They were scared of me.”

“Quite a boast,” he quips.

“No. I felt pity for them. Do you understand? I don’t hate you or any of them. None of you asked for this curse,” she touches his chest, “but you can decide what actions you take. The dark hides but the light is always welcoming Michael.”

“Didn’t answer my question,” he responds but drops it. Michael gazes at her for a long time before taking her hand. “I’m not hiding from you and I never will. I don’t know what happens next but I’m sure of that.”

Mallory smiles gently and looks down with a sigh. “The next thing we do is go back to the Coven and stop your chancellor from committing mass murder.”

Michael’s eyebrows disappear into his hair. He remembers the first thing she had said directly into his mind.

_I know what you’re planning._

Suddenly it dawns on him. “Wait. Did you challenge me to a new test to get me away from the school? So the witches can deal with Ariel without me?”

Mallory smirks, reaching up to touch his temples. “That would be sneaky huh?”

Before Michael can respond bright light bathes them and like a dam bursting the light pours into his mind until everything is obliterated by it. His last feeling is one of bewilderment that Mallory had tricked him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now back to the present...


End file.
